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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238176">Marriage Is What Brings Us Together</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatblondebalrogslayer/pseuds/thegreatblondebalrogslayer'>thegreatblondebalrogslayer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Marriage, Gen, Geralt Makes Bad Decisions, M/M, Magical Accidents</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:48:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238176</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatblondebalrogslayer/pseuds/thegreatblondebalrogslayer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“And now Ciri thinks that there’s a chance her mother might be alive? You have to tell her!” </p>
<p>“Tell her what exactly? That I had an affair with her father before she was even born while he was engaged to and after he married her mother? That completely by accident I managed to hijack said wedding to her mother and I’m the one he actually married but I didn’t say anything to either of them for over twenty years?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dettlaff van der Eretein/Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Emhyr var Emreis/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>192</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ok so I'm totally making up the wedding magic but the witcher universe is weird don't come for me. Also forgive my somewhat liberal usage of the timeline. Pavetta is roughly 20 here and Duny a little older, this is mostly just based off of how old they look in the show.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Toussaint, 1275</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Corvo Bianco</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Geralt? Are you quite all right my dear?” Regis asked, moving in front of him. He plucked the letter out of Geralt’s frozen hands. “Oh a letter from Ciri, how lovely.” Regis’ eyes moved along the letter as he read its contents. “How odd, you don’t think that she could be right do you? That her mother might be alive after all?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Geralt choked out, he sat down heavily on his bed. “That spell, she’s misinterpreting it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t see how she could be, it searched for the life whomever her father is married. It doesn’t give the location but she seems quite certain that her mother is alive.” Regis looked at him carefully. “I don’t believe I ever heard of the emperor remarrying after Princess Pavetta’s death, so unless you know something that the rest of us don’t…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thing is, Geralt could lie. He could say he didn’t know and Regis wouldn’t believe him but he’d let it go. But then it would undoubtedly come back to bite him in the ass later. Ciri was nothing if not resourceful and Geralt didn’t doubt that she would find a way to find the person the spell was searching for. How she’d even found that spell to begin with or </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>was beyond him. But Geralt found he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to  lie to Regis. Ciri sure, hell about this it was preferable actually. But Regis?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not…” Geralt croaked out, “it’s not Pavetta.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t see how it could be anyone but her.” Regis restated and sat down across from Geralt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know that in Cintra marriage laws are magical in some ways?” Geralt flopped back dramatically on his bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only that they are binding until death. Why? Do you know something I don’t?” And there was Regis’s ever present hunger for knowledge. Geralt thought it was adorable but he’d never tell Regis that for both their sake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t realize it until much later and if I’d known I never would have…” Geralt trailed off and rubbed his eyes. “Fuck! Gods, Regis I’m such an idiot.” Geralt was silent for a long minute, then “Some of the rules are strange to say the least, no doubt from the centuries of spells placed upon one another. For instance if your marriage falls upon a full moon every third year from thereon your crops will be twice as plentiful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Helpful but I’m sensing there’s more to this story than crops and full moons.” Regis laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Another rule, probably placed as a joke more than anything else states that whoever you take to bed  your wedding night, if you take anyone at all, are the one you are technically married to.” Geralt waited for the floren to drop. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what does that have to do with... “ and there it was. Regis gasped. “Geralt you </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Gods he was such. An. Idiot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And now Ciri thinks that there’s a chance her mother might be alive? You have to tell her!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell her </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>exactly? That I had an affair with her father before she was even born </span>
  <em>
    <span>while </span>
  </em>
  <span>he was engaged to and </span>
  <em>
    <span>after </span>
  </em>
  <span>he married her mother? That completely by accident I managed to hijack said wedding to her mother and </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one he actually married but I didn’t say anything to either of them for over twenty years?” Geralt wasn’t shouting exactly but it was a close thing. He opened his eyes and looked at Regis. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And dammit, damn </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>because Regis looked disappointed in him. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated </span>
  </em>
  <span>that. But Regis was also </span>
  <em>
    <span>Regis</span>
  </em>
  <span> and didn’t offer any condemnation or judgment. Instead he said, “Why don’t you tell me what happened from the start, then we’ll see where to go from there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>___________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cintra, 1251</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Roughly one week after That Fucking Feast</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The Fucking Dungeon</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt was, as per usual, fucked. He was fucked in about seven different ways at the moment and no one seemed to care. This was also fairly usual for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Give him a striga or hell even a bruxa and he could list at least 5 different ways to kill them with 3 contingency plans for each method. Politics? That would no doubt be the death of him. Geralt of Rivia, witcher of the school of the wolf, defeated by courtroom politics and an indecisive yet fiercely protective Queen and mother. And future grandmother.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, here Geralt was; locked in a prison for what felt like the fiftieth time in his life, though in actuality it was likely only the third or fourth. Jaskier didn’t have the monopoly on being dramatic. Speaking of Jaskier, he had fucked off not long after the damned feast. Geralt didn’t even blame him this time, at least he wouldn’t have to save </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>their asses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt wasn’t even sure he could save his own ass, it was for the best that what amounted to his only friend outside his fellow witchers had managed to finagle his way out. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Geralt had somehow made a friend despite everything about him. That was a mystery for another day, today… Well today he probably wouldn’t be doing much of anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt sighed and looked up at the ceiling of his dreary cell. He was irritated and bored. Well, he was usually irritated and bored. At least now he had four walls surrounding him and a roof over his head? He was also being given somewhat regular meals until the Queen decided whether or not to kill him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he should get himself arrested more often. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, because he was still so </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking bored.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Geralt sighed. Again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” A voice rang out throughout the dungeon. It was clear yet a little timid. “I’m terribly sorry to intrude on your… reflection.” The princess. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt opened one eye and turned his head to look at her, a little less bored now. “Does your mother know you’re down here?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The princess stood up straighter somehow, frowning at him. “Does yours?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And oh, that made him chuckle. “You know she might, if she’s still alive. I haven’t seen her since I was four.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The princess took a step closer, intrigued. Geralt didn’t move a muscle. “Whyever not?” She placed a hand on her damned stomach. The reason he was in this fucking cell in the first place. Although… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Surely you’ve heard the stories princess, about parents trading away their children to become witchers?” Geralt looked back up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, is that what happened to you? Or are there other ways one enters the schools?” The princess moved closer again, she was just outside the bars now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Schools</span>
  </em>
  <span>. As if. “To be truthful I can’t remember it that well, I was very young and that was some seventy years ago.” And wait…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seventy? But you hardly look it, of all the stories I heard of your people, that was the one I believed the least I must confess.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Most witchers never make that far.” And that wasn’t even saying anything about those who didn’t survive the trial of the grasses. “Why are you so interested princess? One would think you might have better things to do than spending your time in the dungeons.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One might also think I might be interested in the man who has more of a claim to my child than myself.” The princess said, her voice surprisingly even. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt sat up and looked at her truly for the first time. She was beautiful of course, no more than 20 summers old likely, but she also had an edge to her. There was something… something different. He could almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>smell </span>
  </em>
  <span>it, it no doubt had to do with her strange power. But it wasn’t just that, he noted, she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>smart</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Young, a trace naive perhaps, but smart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt had never been one for subtlety or games so he said as much, “You’re not stupid are you? You’d be surprised at the number of princesses that are stupid. Royals in general truth be told.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She blinked at him. “And you’re rather blunt aren’t you? I’m honestly surprised none of them have had you hanged yet.” She didn’t even say it maliciously. How surprising. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure there will be plenty further down the Path.” Geralt said. “You know, I think I might actually like you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laughed, it was a lovely sound that somehow brightened up the dark dungeons. “You know I think I might like you as well.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt gave her a small smile. “Well princess since we’ve both admitted our affections I believe it my duty to inform you that I hold no ill will to your or your small family. I have no need nor want for your child.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She raised a pale eyebrow, “You who so fiercely protected the Law of Surprise would now abandon it? You would spit in the face of destiny?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What would I do with such a child? Take it on the Path with me? Neither of us would last a month. Take it back to become a witcher? The schools are all but gone and it likely wouldn’t live long even if it became a witcher anyways. Destiny can go fuck itself.” Geralt growled out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She placed her delicate hands on the door of his cell. “And what if someone had an alternative proposal? Could you not stay here with the child? Satisfy destiny and whatever is driving you? You would not want for much; you could interact with my daughter as much or as little as you like. Destiny would be satisfied and Cintra would keep its princess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt was taken aback so much that he might actually look it. “You would truly do that? And your mother and husband to be would agree to it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>daughter witcher, if they wish to keep me they must. The only person who has near as much claim to her is </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> and I do not wish to fight you.” The princess said, for the first time since their conversation began she sounded like the other royals he had met. Rude and commanding, but maybe she had actually earned it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Daughter huh? You’re not even showing yet, how could you possibly know?” Geralt desperately tried to misdirect.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just do witcher. Will you agree to my terms?” The princess stood back a little, her demeanor more than a little haughty. It would be arrogant on anyone else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t have much to lose at this point, I might as well winter here. Then we’ll see from there.” Geralt sighed, this was getting so much more </span>
  <em>
    <span>involved</span>
  </em>
  <span> than he had ever anticipated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excellent, I’ll show you to your rooms.” She pulled out a set of keys and unlocked his cell. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, did you say </span>
  <em>
    <span>rooms</span>
  </em>
  <span>? As in plural?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Geralt’s Fucking Rooms in the Fucking Castle</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Two Weeks after That Fucking Feast</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If Lambert could see him now he’d be laughing. Well, first he’d run screaming because Geralt was taking a bath. It was his second bath this </span>
  <em>
    <span>week </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it almost made it all worth it. Castle life was… strange. Many of the courtiers actively avoided him and the ones that didn’t talked to him like he was either a child or an urcheon. The Queen went back and forth from being civil with him to outright hostility. He hadn’t even seen the actual urcheon of the castle, the prince to be, since That Fucking Feast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The princess, Pavetta apparently by name, seemed to actively seek out his company. It was strange, he’d gone roughly seventy years with having barely a passing acquaintance and now it seemed that he had not one but two friends. For that’s what Pavetta was, they had somehow become friends despite everything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt was getting complacent and he wasn’t even sure how much he cared. Everything seemed so far away here; the Path, the child surprise, hell even time itself. The longer he stayed the easier it was to ignore it all. Which he realized made absolutely no sense, but damn it all he was tired. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a knock at his door. He stood up and climbed out of the bath, barely pausing to wrap a towel around himself. He went to the door and opened it. He realized in the second that his wrist flung the door open that he maybe should have dressed more, there was no telling who was on the other side but-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” It was the Urcheon Duny. “I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to… disturb you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had disturbed Geralt but it had been his second bath this week so he wasn’t too upset. And oh, Duny was trying so hard not to look. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Geralt thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>might be fun. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on in.” Geralt growled out. He knew, of course he did, that it wasn’t ‘proper court behavior’. But no one expected him to know or use said behavior so why waste his time? It was far more fun to make said court nervous and uncomfortable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny, he noted, was neither. “I am sorry to interrupt, it’s nothing urgent. Pavetta’s been speaking so highly of you I merely thought it prudent to formally introduce myself.” He was looking around Geralt’s room, politely avoiding looking at Geralt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt snorted. He relented and moved to dress himself behind the changing screen. “I imagine you didn’t know what you’d gotten yourself into with her.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny sat down on one of the chairs by the fireplace. “No I don’t think I did, though I can’t seem to bring myself to regret it. Can you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not sure yet.” Geralt said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I sympathize.” Duny said, not sounding very sympathetic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt sat across from him, fully clothed. Duny allowed himself to look. Geralt thought that Duny rather enjoyed what he saw. Geralt leaned back in his chair. “So Duny, what brings you here aside from Pavetta’s insistence.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny snorted, “I’m afraid the people of the court have taken to me little better than to you. They seem to not think the son of illegitimate son of King Akerspaark isn’t good enough for their princess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm.” The thing was Geralt had heard this claim floating around the castle. He had also </span>
  <em>
    <span>met said King</span>
  </em>
  <span> and many of his children. They had every single one of them flaming red hair and bright green eyes. They also had no trace of a Nilfgardian accent, however buried. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Geralt didn’t particularly care for court politics or the rules of humans in general so he said nothing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that didn’t mean he couldn’t fuck with Duny. “You know I actually met your lord father.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” And there it was, Duny’s voice was clipped and careful all of the sudden. It gave little away but Geralt knew there was no small degree of panic within. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yes, he was a piece of work that one. I must say I’m glad you don’t look or act a thing like him.” Geralt gave Duny what one might call a suggestive once over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I must confess I am as well.” Duny laughed a little, his tension eased at least for now. “Say, you don’t happen to play Gwent do you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt groaned. “Not well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny grinned viciously at him, “Well we’ll just have to remedy that. I can’t imagine a witcher such as yourself being beaten so thoroughly at cards would do much to upholster your image. We must rectify this before word gets out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Princess Pavetta’s Sitting Rooms</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Five weeks after That Fucking Feast</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thing about Pavetta, Geralt thought to himself not for the first time, was that he genuinely </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked </span>
  </em>
  <span>her. He had, up until this point, made it a firm rule of his to firmly and perhaps irrationally stay away and strongly dislike any and all royalty. She had thrown several wrenches into that plan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pavetta was smart and charming and an excellent conversationalist. She picked up instantly that while he was a man of at times painfully few words, given enough coaxing and time she could draw out thoughtful and interesting responses from him. He wanted to hate her for it. He couldn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Geralt? What do you think?” She handed him her cross stitch work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it looks like a brown blob.” He said and handed it back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s meant to be the castle.” She sighed. For all her virtues, needlework was not one of them. But he didn’t ever say that to her, at least not outright.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you ever actually been outside the castle?” There, he hadn’t directly insulted the quality of her stitches. Only the involvement in her country. Was that better? Worse?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She ignored him and stabbed at her work again. Something, Geralt noticed, was bothering her. It had been the whole afternoon. He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to bring attention to it but…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stabbed the poor piece of cloth again and Geralt winced in sympathy. “You know,” he started wryly, “I think even the most fearsome of ghoul would be dead by now if you had stabbed it as many times as you’ve stabbed your poor fabric.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She groaned and tossed aside the hoop, Geralt wondered idly if she or someone else would end up with the needle stabbing them somewhere unfortunate after it was no doubt lost in her cushions. “You always seem to know when something is amiss my friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe. Or maybe something is always amiss.” Never let it be said that Geralt of Rivia was an optimist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It does seem that way. You no doubt know that my wedding is to take place in a week. Mother wants it over with as soon as possible. The issue is that there is no one to speak for Duny at the wedding. Normally we would just send for family or friends but…” She trailed off, her voice a controlled rage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But your mother is rushing the wedding in hopes that he has no family or friends to speak of. She thinks that once he comes up empty handed you’ll forsake him to spare yourself the shame. But you won’t.” Geralt was as perceptive as ever. Probably because people liked to pretend he wasn’t there whenever they whispered throughout the castle. Or maybe they just didn’t notice him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Precisely. I don’t suppose…” She trailed off and gave him a </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span>, one that made him deeply uncomfortable. The one that so many people had given him before asking him to do something they knew he’d regret but wouldn’t say no to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever it is, no.” He said, knowing he’d likely agree to it anyways.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Geralt come now, you don’t even know what I’m about to ask.” She gave him a pointed look and he sighed. He gestured for her to continue. “You’ve spent more time with Duny than anyone else since I let you out of the cell and you two are friendly enough are you not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so her plan revealed itself. “I barely know him Pavetta! You want me to speak for him as a friend? We barely know each other!” Geralt hissed at her. Of all the stupid plans…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I will marry him regardless of what you, my mother or anyone else says or does. Please Geralt, I’m asking you as a friend, make this easy on me.” And suddenly Geralt noticed the bags under her eyes. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>tired. Then he remembered that she was with child, of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course </span>
  </em>
  <span>she was tired. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And thus he was struck down by his worst enemy yet again, compassion. “Fine, but don’t expect it to help all that much”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pavetta grinned at him in absolute delight. “Excellent, I’ll tell Duny right away, he’ll be thrilled.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure.” Geralt sighed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>----------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Geralt’s Rooms</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Two days Later</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt was in the bath yet again. He didn’t particularly care to count how many baths he had taken in the last month. It was probably too many. Geralt would have argued with anyone, had they cared enough to point that out in the first place, that there wasn’t such a thing as too many baths. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a knock at the door. Geralt sighed. He stood up and grabbed his towel. He had a fairly good idea of who would be at his door so he didn’t bother getting dressed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He opened it and was not surprised to see Duny on the other side.”We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Geralt said, he was sure he sounded supremely unapologetic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny didn’t even bother looking away, in fact this time he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>looking</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I can’t say I’m terribly sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span> but Geralt couldn’t lie and say he hadn't been waiting for this since that first day when he’d been interrupted in his bath the first time. Geralt moved aside and let Duny into his room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pavetta told me about what you agreed to do for her. For </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I don’t think I can properly express my gratitude.” This time Duny didn’t move to sit in the chair and Geralt didn’t move to get dressed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks aren’t necessary, there is little I wouldn’t do for a friend and in my time here Pavetta has become a dear one.” Geralt folded his arms over his chest and studied Duny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what of myself?” Duny placed his arms behind his back, as if to bear himself for Geralt’s scrutiny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In the past three weeks we’ve spent countless hours together and I find that I barely know more than the passing detail about you. You hide much of yourself very carefully, I doubt even Pavetta sees much of who you are.” Geralt moved closer, Duny held his head up arrogantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your point? Many men seek to hide much of their pasts.” Duny didn’t look away from Geralt’s eyes. He never had. Geralt had never met a man who had never bowed their head or looked away from his strange </span>
  <em>
    <span>inhuman</span>
  </em>
  <span> eyes. Except Duny, maybe it was because of his curse or his past, but he didn’t ever seem to fear Geralt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“True, but it's usually from shame or fear. I don’t think that’s the case with you.” Geralt stood a mere foot away from Duny now, unblinking. Duny didn’t avert his gaze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then tell me </span>
  <em>
    <span>witcher,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Geralt almost shivered at how he said ‘witcher, “what do you think is the case with me?” And Duny’s dark eyes seemed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>burn </span>
  </em>
  <span>in that instant and Geralt didn’t know with what, but he was suddenly a little afraid of the man before him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Geralt was no stranger to fear and above all he had never truly learned not to stick his hand into fire lest he get burned. “I think,” he said, staring Duny down, “that my bath is getting cold.” He moved around Duny to stand behind him. Duny didn’t move, he didn’t even breathe. Geralt brushed his hands past Duny’s own. Duny’s hands twitched reflexively and Geralt smirked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leaned forward near Duny’s ear and growled out, his voice barely a whisper, “Join me?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Geralt and Duny attempt to play chess, then they get into trouble. Duny learns more about what it means to be and become a witcher. </p>
<p>It's fine, they're fine.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In all his years, Geralt had never attended a wedding that he had much stake in. He’d never even been to a wedding where he cared much for the bride or groom. This wedding he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>have a stake in and he cared for both the bride and groom, gods help him. That didn’t mean he wasn’t miserable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If asked, and he had been asked, how he was enjoying the wedding he would have responded with a “It’s lovely” or “Hmm”, but few approached him. If he was being honest with himself, which he made a point never to be, he would have admitted that he was miserable for four reasons. The first being the damned </span>
  <em>
    <span>doublet</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Pavetta had shoved him into. The second was that it had already been two hours since the damned ceremony had begun and he had been informed the whole affair would likely last for another couple of hours. The third was his fellow wedding goers, they avoided him like the plague, which was ridiculous because he couldn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>carry </span>
  </em>
  <span>the plague.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The final and most problematic reason was the most complicated. Geralt had never been one to proclaim his moral superiority over others, he knew he had made bad decisions and would likely continue to do so for the rest of his life. Sure sometimes he wasn’t given much if any of a choice and sometimes he just didn’t care. But here and now, he knew he had fucked up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt watched as Pavetta and Duny took their vows, he watched the sheer bliss on their faces. He had a good view, standing next to Duny, he watched them and his only thought was </span>
  <em>
    <span>I fucked one of my only friends' husband and I want to do it again.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wedding dragged on. Geralt was feeling more on edge than he had in </span>
  <em>
    <span>weeks</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He needed to leave, but he couldn’t because he’d allowed himself to develop </span>
  <em>
    <span>commitments.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He wanted to run, damn the child, Pavetta, and Duny. Damn them all and run like hell. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pavetta smiled graciously at the crowd as she made her way over to him. He drank what was his sixth or seventh glass of wine in two sips. She reached him. He picked up another. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Geralt, thank you for being here for us, it means a great deal to me.” She smiled at him, her face was so bright, so happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It hurt more than any wound he’d ever had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course princess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I owe you much, which is why I thought I’d inform you that it is now socially acceptable for you to make your escape.” She grinned at him. “You look miserable, I thought I ought to put you out of your misery.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If only</span>
  </em>
  <span> Geralt thought.  He smiled at her “Thank you princess, I think I’ll take you up on that.” He didn’t have to say that he was about ten minutes away from jumping out of a window. They both knew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course my friend, if I’m being honest I don’t think I can handle much more of this either.” Pavetta, he noticed, looked more pale than usual. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you alright? You look…” He gestured vaguely at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ill? Pregnancy does do that to a person.” She grimaced at the food at the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah.” Geralt said awkwardly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sighed and looked around them, there were still many guests she likely hadn’t managed to greet yet. “I’d better go save the guests from Duny, they keep trying to tear him to pieces but… Well you’ve met him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm.” Was all Geralt said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pavetta gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and left him watching her make her way through the haughty guests. She reached Duny who smiled at her then looked over to Geralt, he nodded his head to him. Geralt didn’t move, he just looked. Duny’s eyes were bright, as if he was containing his laughter, but the rest of his face remained motionless. He looked away to the nobleman that was sneering at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes went cold, they seemed to burn through the nobleman. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was the fourth reason he was miserable. There were times when Duny scared him. Geralt knew he was holding back, that there was so much more under the surface. Most of the time he convinced himself that Duny was harmless, just smarter than the nobles expected him to be, that his intellect was all that was poking through the surface. But that wasn’t it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes Geralt looked into Duny’s eyes and felt like he was staring into the deepest abyss in the ocean. He could almost see beneath the turmoil of the waves, the deadly calm just under the service. It unnerved him more than he’d ever admit. His depths threatened to drag Geralt down, so deep he couldn’t escape. But then he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>at Geralt, it wasn’t ever much, just a glance with so much behind it Geralt couldn’t decipher its meaning. He’d just give him a </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Geralt wanted to dive into those depths and never surface.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt looked at Duny and was afraid of what he saw sometimes. He was more afraid that he couldn’t seem to look away. There was something within Duny that </span>
  <em>
    <span>burned</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Geralt couldn’t find it in himself to look away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---------</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt’s room had a chill in the air, the rest of the castle did too. Winter was just starting to hit them. He started a fire. He sat in front of it, staring into its depths. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was late, he should go to sleep but… </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His door opened. He turned his head, his eyes barely had time to widen before Duny was standing in front of him. Kissing him. Geralt leaned into it, leaned into </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He felt like he might be on fire, he should stop, should tell Duny to leave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should ask who he is. Why he’s here. Why he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>here </span>
  </em>
  <span>with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Geralt. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt stands. Duny moves with him. Geralt leans back, Duny chases after his lips. Geralt lets him for a moment but then steps back a few inches. He stares into Duny’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny looks at him challenging, challenging him to ask, to accuse, to swim up. Geralt reaches his hand out. Duny’s fingers lock with his and he lets Geralt lead him to the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The depths swallow him whole. He doesn’t even try to fight it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>------------</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A week later Duny shows up at his door with a chess set in hand. Geralt takes one look at the board and sighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny rolls his eyes at him and sets the board up. “Black or white Geralt?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it matter?” Geralt looks at the pieces on the board, they look the same aside from the colors. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“White goes first giving that player the advantage of setting the stage.” Duny says, he’s inspecting the pieces closely as if they might tell him a secret. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Black then.” Geralt says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sure if you’re trying to be contrary or have a strategy in mind.” Duny picked up one of the pieces in the front and moved it forward on the board. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why can’t it be both?” Geralt moved one of the pieces in the front diagonally. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t put that there.” Duny said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not?” Geralt inspected the piece.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It can only move forward.” Duny said somewhat impatiently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s stupid, next you’ll tell me you can only move them one at a time.” Geralt scowled at the pieces on the board. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well yes actually.” Duny sighed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t expect people to fight like that, battles are fought dirty, you can’t expect your enemy to fight like you expect.” Geralt picked up the two largest pieces with crowns. “These are the king and queen, yes?” Duny nodded, he looked irritated. “They would never be on the battlefield.” He put them off the board. “Never known a king to fight with his men. Some might but most…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just because they’re on the board doesn’t mean that they’re actively engaged in the battle Geralt.” Duny sounded exasperated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If they’re anywhere near the battle ground they should expect a fight.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m beginning to think chess wasn’t the best choice of a day's activity.” Duny sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A day’s? This was supposed to take all day?” Geralt leaned back in his seat. “Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To test and improve strategy? To know your opponent's mind I suppose.” Duny was </span>
  <em>
    <span>looking </span>
  </em>
  <span>at him again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I think you’re facing down the wrong </span>
  <em>
    <span>opponent</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Never had to use much strategy against men and I don’t want to play this all day.” Geralt stood up and stretched his back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then what do you suggest we do?” Duny sat back and studied Geralt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt walked over to the window and looked out. “Let's go for a ride.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A ride?” Duny asked him, perplexed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, haven’t spent much time with Roach lately. Might as well knock out two birds with one stone if I’m meant to entertain you today.” Geralt hummed as he moved away from the window. He gathered up his swords and put a cloak on. He tossed a spare to Duny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, did you say Roach?” Duny caught the cloak, his expression baffled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My horse.” Geralt said by way of explanation as he slung his swords over his shoulder. He clasped the cloak around Duny’s neck. Geralt smoothed it down over his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You named your horse Roach?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Geralt pecked him lightly on the lips and opened the door. Duny followed behind him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.” Duny muttered behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I feel the same about you</span>
  </em>
  <span> Geralt thought. He led Duny to the stables. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are we going?” Duny asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That way.” Geralt gestured vaguely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s over there?” Duny asked as he mounted his horse. Geralt looked up at him and shrugged. He took a spare sword hanging on a weapon rack and secured it to Duny’s saddle. Just in case.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll find out.” He mounted Roach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re unbelievable.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stuck to the main path, Geralt wasn’t looking to start a fight with a monster while he had Duny in tow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They rode in silence but Geralt could almost feel Duny’s discomfort at said silence. Geralt didn’t say anything, he wondered how long Duny would last before-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Geralt?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt sighed, “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s your favorite color?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My what?” Geralt turned in his saddle to look at his riding companion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your favorite color, what is it? I can’t decide what it might be.” Duny is looking at him curiously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt blinked at him. His favorite color? Is that something people had? “I don’t know. What’s yours?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blue, I always did like the sea.” Duny said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt didn’t respond. They kept riding, Duny occasionally would ask Geralt what a particular plant was, Geralt would tell him and Duny seemed to catalogue that information for future use. Geralt doubted Duny would ever need to know the difference between arenaria and han fiber but one never knew what trouble they might end up in.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They look exactly the same Geralt, are you sure this is a different flower?” Duny asked, his voice slightly irritated. Geralt sighed and hopped off of Roach and plucked up some of each plant, he heard Duny get off his own horse. He brought them over to Duny.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They don’t and they are, arenaria are smaller and used in various oils while han fiber is larger and used in potions.” Geralt held up the two offending plants for Duny to inspect. He placed the arenaria in Duny’s hand and held up the han fiber in his own. “See?” He looked up and Duny was obviously trying not to laugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry Geralt, they still look the same. Did you drag me all the way out here to give me flowers?” Duny smiled at him, a real smile. Geralt thought in that moment he hadn’t actually seen Duny smile before. He wondered if he ever would again. It was… nice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Geralt said. He whistled for Roach to come to him. He was about to hop back up when he heard a branch snap, it couldn’t be more than ten feet away. “Get behind me.” He said as he was already moving in front of Duny. He reached over his shoulder as he looked to see what else was in the woods with them, unsure of which sword he might need.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt’s eyes scanned the woods waiting for an attack. He didn’t have to wait long. An arrow whistled through the trees, he knocked it out of the air with his steel sword. Four men, bandits, came charging at them. A fifth stood back, an archer. “Shit.” Geralt said as he cast Quen over himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He parried the first blow and punched one bandit in the stomach, he reeled back and Geralt sliced through his arm then his neck. He whirled to block a blow from the next bandit, he heard Duny draw his own blade from his horse but the men were still focussed on Geralt. At least for now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He threw Aard at the two men closest to him, they landed hard on the ground. He stabbed one through the heart before he could move again. The second started to get back up but Geralt kicked him then sliced him across the back. He stayed down this time. The archer fired another shot and Geralt staggered back but his Quen protected him. The fourth bandit approached, he was probably the leader Geralt thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He certainly fought harder, he parried Geralt’s first onslaught. He struck at Geralt and he was too late to block it, the blow shattered his Quen making him and the bandit stagger back. The archer fired another shot at Geralt, he hissed as the arrow entered his shoulder. The bandit leader came at him again and Geralt barely lifted his sword in time. His vision was growing fuzzy, the arrow was deep in his chest. He needed to end this before he passed out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt gritted his teeth and waited for the man to attack again. He moved to the side once he struck at him, Geralt moved his blade in one swift, painful, motion and the bandits head fell to the ground. The rest of his body fell a few feet away. Geralt stumbled to the archer but his knees gave out. The man knocked another arrow and… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And dropped the bow to the ground then fell to his knees in front of Geralt. There was a blade sticking through him, he’d been stabbed through the back. Duny stood behind him and yanked his sword out. The man collapsed to the ground dead. Duny stared at him for a second before rushing over to Geralt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Geralt! Are you alright?” He grabbed Geralt’s shoulders and Geralt leaned into him, he could barely sit up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Got shot.” Are you alright, what kind of question was that. “Think it was poisoned.” Geralt blinked, his vision was fading more and he was beginning to lose feeling in his limbs. “Pull…” Geralt’s tongue was, did he have a tongue? “Arrow. Pull the arrow out.” He did have a tongue. For now at least. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure? How will that help the poison?” Duny’s voice was frantic. Why was it frantic? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get my bag, there’s a potion labeled golden oriole. Should help, grab the white raffard’s decoction too for blood loss.” Geralt closed his eyes. Duny leapt up to retrieve the potions and Geralt fell. “Ow.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny yanked the arrow out then poured the potions down Geralt’s throat. The effect was near instantaneous, or at least it probably seemed that way to a human. Duny clutched his hand tightly as the wound closed up and the potions forced the poison out of Geralt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt groaned and sat up slowly, Duny clutched his arm, Geralt leant into him. “‘m fine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny looked at him like he’d just crawled out from under the earth. “You’re fine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt gestured vaguely at his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You almost died!” Duny shouted at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dying is relative.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No it really isn’t!” Duny gripped his arm tighter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well what was I supposed to do? Let them kill you and run away?” Geralt growled at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes! That’s what anyone else would have done. Any man would have.” Duny blinked and looked away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I’m not a man.” Geralt said, as if that won whatever argument they were having. Maybe it did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That has become exceedingly apparent after today.” Duny let go of his arm and slowly stood up, looking around at the carriage they had wrought. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>Geralt </span>
  </em>
  <span>had wrought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt looked up at Duny, he didn’t move from the floor. “You forgot didn’t you, got used to the eyes and forgot that isn’t where it stops.” Geralt watched, waiting for the inevitable fear. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>anger</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny didn’t look at him. When he spoke his voice was low, even. “Is this what they taught you as a boy? To tell the difference between flowers and to kill five men in as many minutes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt stood, he saw the arenaria that was crumpled in Duny’s hand. He took it from him, Duny didn’t flinch. Geralt had expected him to. “Four.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny blinked at him. “What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I killed four men, you killed the fifth.” Geralt picked up his sword and wiped it off on one of the dead men’s shirts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny gaped at him “I… You infuriate me like no other.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all day.” Geralt sighed and began to drag the bodies together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Duny stood back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t want to attract necrophages this close to the castle or the main road, gotta burn the bodies.” Geralt piled the corpses together and used Igni to set them on fire. “Lets go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny did argue and they mounted their horses. He was silent on the ride back to the castle. He left Geralt alone in the stables. Geralt sighed and took care of Roach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later that night after he had bathed and painstakingly removed the blood from his clothes a knock came at the door. Geralt opened it and Duny passed him by without so much as a word. He sat on Geralt’s bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt sighed and picked up his swords, then he sat down next to Duny. “What’s bothering you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He expected a dozen different responses; you’re not a man, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>a man, you killed four men and aren’t even trying to look remorseful about it, you used magic. Anything really, anything but… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My child, mine and Pavetta’s, are they to become what you are? The pain and the killing, is that to be their life if you decide to claim them?” Duny’s fingers were white, he was clutching his hands too tightly. Geralt wanted to reach out but… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I wouldn’t… It’s not worth it, the shit we went through to become witchers. Wouldn’t do that to a kid, especially not yours.” Geralt pulled out his silver sword. He began the methodical process of cleaning and oiling it. He moved onto the steel sword when he finished. Duny remained silent. He finished the steel sword and placed it back in its sheath. He leaned them against the wall and turned to Duny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How does one make a witcher?” Duny asked him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t want to know.” Geralt told him, he understood why so many were curious but the reality was so… Brutal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt sighed. “There are several trials we go through as boys, all formative in their own way. But it's the trial of the grasses that changes us. It does more than strip us of emotions like so many say, it adds mutations from different monsters and creatures to make us stronger. More durable, it’s why we heal faster and can drink potions. Use limited magic, that sort of stuff.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t more people do it then, if it can do all that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s extremely painful, not to mention for most people it… It uh doesn’t take.” Geralt flexed his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doesn’t take? What does that mean?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The success rate, really the survival rate, is roughly three in ten boys. The rest, well, it’s not a nice way to die. Even if you do survive it it’s excruciating. I said I wouldn’t put a kid through it and I meant it Duny.” Geralt watches him for his reaction. “Most kids are orphans or given through the law of surprise, kids no one cares about, Still…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which were you? An orphan or…” Duny watches him, Geralt isn’t sure what for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neither.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neither? Your parents just gave you up?” Duny looks astonished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt shrugged. “I barely remember, it was so long ago and I was so small. I remember my mother, she had red hair. She said she’d be back but… Well.” He shrugged and gestured at himself. “A witcher found me, I know she’d contacted him, he took me home. I think I was around four years old.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And then you became a witcher. They changed you, body and mind and here you are today. Can you promise me that you’ll never take my child and change them like that?” For the first time since Geralt had known him, Duny sounded afraid. Afraid of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt gently took his face in the palm of his hand “I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>force your child to become a witcher.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny closed his eyes and leaned into Geralt’s hand. They stayed like that for a few minutes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Green.” Geralt said suddenly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duny opened his eyes and looked at him confused. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My favorite color, I think it’s green.” Geralt leaned in and kissed him, long and sweet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re ridiculous.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” Geralt winked at him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I didn't not use a Nilfgaardian name generator for this.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Toussaint, 1275</p>
<p>Corvo Bianco</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You picked Emhyr var Emreis, emperor of Nilfgaard and just about half the planet flowers?” Regis’ face glowed in the warm candle light, he looked like he was trying not to laugh at him. He was failing miserably. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I fail to see how that was what you took away from that?” Geralt nudged Regis with his knee. </p>
<p>“What did you want me to take away from it? I shan't judge you Geralt, I don’t think I have it in me. But I will laugh at you, albeit gently and with the utmost fondness.” Regis said with a sincerity that made Geralt want to shrivel up and die. </p>
<p>Geralt opened his mouth to say something, anything, but a fine red mist entered his room. Geralt sighed. “The door is there for a reason Dettlaff.”</p>
<p>The vampire in question materialized at the foot of Geralt’s bed. He sat down on it and stared at them. Regis was trying not to laugh again. </p>
<p>“What is it my dear?” Regis asked Dettlaff, as always infinitely more patient than Geralt.</p>
<p>“I grew restless.” Dettlaff said, his eyes moving throughout Geralt’s room. They landed on Geralt’s portrait. Geralt lay shirtless on his bed and yet felt more uncomfortable with Dettlaff’s inspection of his less than clothed painting than when his eyes had actually been on Geralt. They went back to the painting. “I fear that the artist has taken many artistic liberties in portraying his subject, witcher.”</p>
<p>Geralt made a face at him but otherwise ignored the snide comment. “Meaning you got bored so naturally you decided to come and harass your favorite witcher.” Geralt said in a tone that Ciri would have said was ‘bitchy’. </p>
<p>“You are the only witcher I know so yes.” Dettlaff continued his inspection of the painting. “I think I prefer the source material to this… portrait.”</p>
<p>Geralt blinked and Regis let out a choked laugh. “Dettlaff darling I think your boredom came at the most opportune time, I believe Geralt was in dire need of a break from his storytelling. Why don’t we move to the dining table and-” </p>
<p>Regis was cut off as a brilliant flash of green light took over the room and a woman appeared. Dettlaff tensed but Regis laid a hand on his shoulder and he relaxed, mostly. Geralt stayed still, <em>waiting</em>. </p>
<p>“Geralt! Did you get my letter?” Ciri was already speaking, her eyes hadn’t caught up with her mouth yet. Geralt watched her, taking in her appearance. Ciri, for most of the time he had known her, had always had an edge to her. From running for her life, from hunger, from knowing that she might end the world if she couldn’t control herself. </p>
<p>The edge was still there but less so now. There was an air of calm around her. It suited her. The clothes he was less sure about, the finery was, well, fine. But one glance told him a tale of limited mobility and no doubt a cost of hundreds of crowns. Sorry, <em>florens</em>. It seemed that knowing where one's next meal would be coming from helped one's persona immensely. And not being hunted by nearly everyone in this realm and a few aside. She looked almost at<em> peace</em>. He wondered what it felt like.</p>
<p>Geralt didn’t have to wait long for the sight before her to catch up to her eyes. “Oh.” She said. It was a more than appropriate response to finding your adoptive father in bed with two other men, as mostly clothed as they were. “Should I come back later or?” Ciri laughed a little uncomfortably. </p>
<p>“We were just about to have dinner.” Geralt said and Regis handed him his shirt. </p>
<p>“Great, I’m starving.” Ciri said and practically bolted through the door. </p>
<p>“What was it you were saying about doors?” Dettlaff said dryly. “At least I knew what I was likely to find on the other side.” </p>
<p>Geralt shoved him off the bed but Dettlaff misted away. Geralt made a face at him to which Dettlaff showed his more vampiric face. “You’re so obnoxious, don’t do that in front of her. Regis, do you think she recognized you?” </p>
<p>Regis shrugged at him helplessly. “One way to tell I suppose.” He gave Geralt a swift kiss then stood and kissed Dettlaff. “Our dread dinner awaits, come.” </p>
<p>Geralt and Dettlaff followed him, but neither complained. </p>
<p>Ciri sat at the end of the table, Geralt sat across from her. Regis and Dettlaff sat on either side of the table. “Well I see you’ve been keeping busy.” Ciri laughed at them. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends Geralt?” </p>
<p>Geralt sighed and leaned back in his chair, “This is Dettlaff,” he waved his hand at Dettlaff who rolled his eyes at him, “and you’ve already met Regis.” </p>
<p>Ciri blinked at Regis. “But you...? Oh. Well alright then, I suppose it’s nice to meet you properly this time.” </p>
<p>They ate together, Ciri and Regis traded stories from the time since they had seen each other. Regis delicately maneuvered around which exact Vampire it had been that caused the massacre in Toussaint. Ciri pretended not to notice. </p>
<p>Finally, Regis gave her one of his signature small smiles and nodded his head. “What brings you to Toussaint Ciri?” He asked her, as if he didn’t already know. </p>
<p>She watched him wearily, trust didn’t come easy to her. Normally he would approve, but this was Regis. “Oh this and that.” </p>
<p>“You can tell him, he already saw the letter.” Geralt said, he’d never been one to manipulate or lie through situations. He already knows more than you do and has already guessed the rest Geralt thought, not at all bitterly. </p>
<p>She frowned at him. “Alright then I suppose.” </p>
<p>“I haven’t seen the letter.” Dettlaff said. </p>
<p>“Ignore him, I do my best to.” Geralt said without looking away from Ciri. </p>
<p>Dettlaff scoffed at him. Geralt looked at him, “I’m beginning to regret socializing you to humans and human behavior.” </p>
<p>Dettlaff rolled his eyes, that was his favorite human expression by far, it irritated Geralt to no end. </p>
<p>Ciri laughed at them. “Well if Geralt trusts you…” </p>
<p>Geralt didn’t not yet at least, but Regis did which was a far better metric if you asked him anyways. He nodded at her. She began her most recent tale.</p>
<p>“It’s always bothered me, what happened to my mother. Neither you nor my Grandmother nor even Papa will speak of her. Or what happened to her.” Ciri said, her gaze drifted down sadly. Geralt, rather nobly if he did say so, said nothing of her <em>Papa</em>. “I only know a little from the stories people tell, and even they know almost nothing.” </p>
<p>Geralt didn’t interrupt but thought, not for the first nor last time, that he should have told her at least what he remembered of her mother. He used to tell himself that it wasn’t his place but… Well that was a lie, wasn’t it? It was hard to think about his second ever friend without feeling a myriad of complicated and generally unpleasant feelings. So he did his best not too. <em>Again</em>, Geralt thought to himself cruelly, <em>you hurt her for no reason other than to spare yourself pain and shame</em>.</p>
<p>“So, over the years I must admit I always harbored some secret hope that well…” Ciri trailed off, distracted.</p>
<p>“That she might not be dead after all. Ciri…” Geralt started to say but she cut him off, a new fire alight in her eyes. </p>
<p>“Don’t treat me like a child Geralt, I’m no fool. I spoke to the court mages, found the most foolproof spell available. The only certain one was to search for a ruler's spouse using a…” She started to list off the ingredients but Geralt held up a hand. </p>
<p>“Ciri.” She stopped at his firm tone. “Your mother is dead, not much is certain in this world but that is one of few facts. Maybe your mages cast the spell wrong, maybe it just didn’t work, but she’s <em>gone</em> Ciri.”</p>
<p>He could feel Regis’ eyes burning into him, disapproving. It didn’t stop him. </p>
<p>She tightened her jaw. “That’s what Papa said, almost to the word. But I’ll say to you what I told him, the spell worked and the person he married is alive. If, somehow, that’s not my mother then we’ve cause for concern.”</p>
<p>“That would place your right to the throne in question.” Regis said quietly. “Geralt…” He started sharply.</p>
<p>“No, Regis.” He said firmly. “This isn’t the time.” Regis said nothing but pursed his lips. Detlaff looked on, curious as ever.</p>
<p>Ciri looked between them, her eyes sharp but whatever she was looking for she did not find. She let it slide, for now. “Well,” she stood up “I best be on my way, I don’t think I actually told anyone where I was going and I really ought to be going before they send the armies out.”</p>
<p>The again went unsaid but very clearly heard. It wasn’t a very tactful not-quite-a-threat but Geralt let it slide. He was just as eager to get out of this conversation as she was. </p>
<p>They bid each other farewell, Ciri promising to visit again soon, then as quickly as she came, she was gone. </p>
<p>Regis was frowning at him. Detlaff watched him curiously.</p>
<p>“You do not wish for her to investigate this matter further. Why?” Detlaff asked, impartial but slightly curious.</p>
<p>Geralt tried not to squirm under his gaze. </p>
<p>“Darling,” Regis said to, obviously meaning Detlaff, Geralt didn’t think he qualified as darling right now, “do you think you might give Geralt and I the night to discuss… Well, everything.” </p>
<p>Detlaff looked between the two of them, Geralt more than a little sunk in his chair and Regis plainly unhappy with him, and misted away without a word. Geralt wished <em>he</em> could mist away from this conversation.</p>
<p>“Geralt…” Regis started tiredly “I know this cannot be easy for you, but the longer you wait the harder it will be. Surely you know this.”</p>
<p>“I’ve already waited too long, twenty-three years too long.” He said miserably. </p>
<p>“I can’t argue with you on that but Geralt, surely it would be for the best to tell her now rather than her finding out on her own? Or worse her enemies finding out and challenging her claim?” Regis said, his voice was calm and only mildly irritated. He spoke as if to an unruly child to whom he was trying to show the error of their actions. </p>
<p>“But it’s not just her Regis, it’s <em>him</em> too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cintra, 1251</p>
<p>Late December</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were now in the thick of winter and Geralt was starting to fully come to terms with the fact that winters needn’t always be so… well, cold. Kaer Morhen was home in a way few understood, and he both loved and hated it for that in almost equal measures. It had made him in every painfully conceivable way. But it was also old and crumbling. The Cintrian castle was old, yes, but it was most certainly not crumbling. It was also consistently warm.</p>
<p>There were no unpleasantly chilly drafts throughout odd sections of the castle, unless you counted the chilly stares and glares he still received from more than a few of its residents. He sooned discovered, however, that he was not the only one in the castle to be using it as temporary shelter. </p>
<p>"Hello vattghern, it is a surprise to see one of your… <em>kind</em> here." An imperious voice called out to him one day in the library, it was late in the evening and there was rarely anyone other than him there in those hours. Geralt wasn't sure if he meant in the castle or the library itself. He sighed and looked up from the dusty tome that had been failing to captivate his attention. </p>
<p>The man that stood before him wasn't exceptional in any regard, or he wasn't until one noticed the exceedingly dark hair and thick accent. A nilfgaardian. In Cintra. Geralt raised a brow and the man sat without asking permission. Imperial and imperious indeed.</p>
<p>"I am Stedwem Aep Gern of Nilfgaard." He did an over the top bow that no one should ever have done to Geralt of all people. It was especially ridiculous seeing as he was already seated. Geralt nodded politely at him but made no other movement. </p>
<p>"And what brings you to Cintra, Stedwem Aep Gern of Nilfgaard?" Geralt asked dryly. </p>
<p>Stedwem sat back in his chair and gave Geralt a studying look. "Oh this and that, nothing that would interest one of your… profession."</p>
<p>"Hmm." Geralt said and flipped his book back open. He pretended to read while Stedwem pretended to not feel a dire need to break the silence.</p>
<p>Half an hour passed before he cracked. Geralt was mildly impressed, most people didn't last five minutes. "I had heard that witchers were inclined to winter at their home, much farther north."</p>
<p>"You heard well." Geralt said without looking up. He hadn't feigned such interest in human marriage rights or any such topic since he was a child and Vesemir had kept a close eye on him.</p>
<p>Stedwem went to say something but Duny entered the library, no doubt looking for him. Duny starred at Stedwem for a long minute, his eyes seeming to burn into him. Stedwem pretended not to notice but Geralt noted more than a hint of unease radiating off of him. Duny tended to have that affect on people sometimes but this… this was different. More sincere. More dangerous.</p>
<p>Geralt felt the need to flee. His witcher mutations may have stripped the fight or flight response from him in combat, but they had done no such thing for conversation. Or politics. He stood and gave the two men a much more modest bow then fled the library. He'd come back later.</p>
<p>He didn't even notice he still had the book until he was back in his room, far away from whatever conflict Duny had undoubtedly landed himself in.</p>
<p>He walked through the hallways casually, nodded politely at the servants he recognized and ignoring the glares of the gentry who had such obvious disdain for him and his 'kind'. He entered his room and sat down by the unlit fireplace. He stared unseeing at the book in his lap, he'd felt rather unfocused of late, more unsure of his place. There was an itch under his skin, a voice he didn't quite recognize whispering in his ear. <em>Move on</em> it said. <em>Run away it</em> hissed.</p>
<p>He'd been ignoring it for weeks now, since he arrived if he was being honest. He felt trapped by the freedom he had. The stares and rude whispers he could take, those never went away, but his friends? Having people around constantly that cared about him, about what happened to <em>him</em>? </p>
<p>That was unbearable. Even Dandelion came and went from his life, ever unable to focus on one adventure at a time. Pavetta and Duny were different though. Even Calanthe in her cool and unapproachable way. They were almost like… <em>no</em>. </p>
<p>He stood up quickly, as if he'd been burned. He paced around the room, his chest feeling very tight all of the sudden. The air felt thick and unruly. He felt the urge to leave, at the least get outside.</p>
<p>There was a sharp knock at the door, almost urgent in its sound. He took a shaky breath and opened it. It was Stedwem, his face was much more gaunt than it had been in the library, his skin had lost much of its color. He looked haunted.</p>
<p>"Can I help you?" Geralt asked, sincerely hoping that he wouldn't be able to.</p>
<p>"I'm not certain, may I?" Stedwem gestured into Geralt's room. Geralt moved aside to let him in. "I have some questions about your friend Duny if I may?" </p>
<p>Geralt stood stiffly, his breathing still not quite regular. He nodded tersely.</p>
<p>Stedwem began to pace around the small room. "You see, I come from Nilfgaard as you know. What you may not know is that I have certain… interests in the affairs that concern the great empire. Discreet interests, but ones in the name of the emperor."</p>
<p>"In other words you're a spy." Geralt had heard little of imperial spies but he had heard of their dedication, their… enthusiastic approach. Some called it fanaticism.</p>
<p>"Some might, so you see when I came across your friend he struck me as terribly familiar. Concerningly so." Stedwem said cautiously, clearly not wanting to let Geralt know any more than he had too. </p>
<p>"And you're telling me this why? You yourself have said he is a… friend of mine." Geralt folded his arms. </p>
<p>Stedwem looked at him, a deep hard look, Geralt couldn't tell if he liked what he found. "You likely heard of the recent regime change within the great empire no doubt? Well it likely wouldn't surprise you that a few of the families supporting the former emperor managed to flee, only a few from each. They scattered all over the continent." </p>
<p>Geralt tensed. "And you were sent to hunt them down. And you think that Duny is one of these surviving nobles" </p>
<p>Stedwem made no outward signs of acknowledgement. "If said suspicions are correct he would need to be returned home for-" he coughed. </p>
<p>"For tea I'm sure." Geralt said harshly. "And what makes you think I'd ever help you, you who calls him my friend?" He said, trying to remain impassive. </p>
<p>"You are a witcher are you not? You do not meddle with politics, at times act as a carrier of the law, a seeker and enforcer of justice. And he has lied to you, to everyone here. He has run away like a coward. Does a man like that truly deserve to live out his days as a prince? A man like that will turn on you, on anyone. Be it in a day, a week, a decade." Stedwem stated this all cooly, like it was plain as day. Maybe it was.</p>
<p>Maybe it wasn't. </p>
<p>"A man like that?" Geralt said "Maybe. You're probably right. But a man like <em>me</em>? I'd never betray a friend, especially not an innocent one. Not on your life." </p>
<p>Stedwem stood and shook his head, "if it would help your conciousness, I've been tracking Duny for some time. I can assure you that of the many things he is, innocent is not one. I will be continuing my investigation."</p>
<p>"Discreetly I'm sure." Geralt said, trying to keep the worry from his voice. He could tell by the look on Stedwem's face that he failed.</p>
<p>"For now." He left, shutting the door loudly behind him.</p>
<p>Geralt sat down weekly on the sofa in front of the cold fireplace after a long minute. He waved his hand and the fire sprang to life but he still felt horribly cold. Several long minutes passed then he picked up the book he had accidentally taken with him. He flipped it opened to a random page.</p>
<p>The chapter title read Magic and Marriage in Cintrian Law; More Closely Tied Than You Might Think. He skimmed it for a second, thinking to himself it was likely the only interesting segment in the book. Then his eyes fell upon a single paragraph that confirmed that thought without a doubt.</p>
<p><em>An largely unknown, but mostly useless fact, about marriage and magic in Cintra is that due to an age old spell; marriage is not only to the one with whom the rites are performed with, but also they who sleep together upon the wedding night</em>. The paragraph went on but Geralt barely read it. <em>Some scholars believe that this is due to an ancient curse tied to the land of a young maiden who later found out that her husband had slept with another upon their wedding night</em>. He couldn't breath. <em>Most argue that both marriages are valid in the eyes of Cintrian Law, but all with a knowledge of the arcane arts undeniably agree that marriage through magic is far more binding and permanent than that of the law</em>. His hands shook. </p>
<p>He threw the book into the fire and shot up out of his seat. He had to leave. Now. He had stayed too long. He had... He… <em>What had he done</em>? </p>
<p>He quickly gathered up his things, he didn't even bother to oil his swords, Vesemir would have had his hide for that. He would have had his hide for several things over by now. Melitile what had he <em>done</em>. </p>
<p>He had his armor on and his few possessions gathered in less than five minutes. He glanced back over the room, his room. Where he and Duny had… <em>No</em>.</p>
<p>He glanced over at the fire and gave it one more burst of igni, fully incinerating the book. He put the fire out with a wave of his hand, the room was so dark now. </p>
<p>He fled. </p>
<p>He left the room and slammed into a sturdy body. He almost fell from the momentum but strong arms caught him. </p>
<p>"Geralt are you alright? You look even more pale than usual? Are you heading out? It's terribly late." <em>Fuck. Fucking fuck fuck fuck <strong>fuck</strong></em>. </p>
<p>Duny's dark eyes stared into his. Geralt couldn't bare to look into them a moment longer, couldn't speak. So he didn't. </p>
<p>Over the last months he has discovered a few ways of distracting Duny. First was to comment on a few key members of court, which always instigated a long rant. Second was to comment on how lovely Pavetta had looked at dinner today didn't you think? Which always gave Duny a dreamy look and made him pause before he could collect his thoughts.</p>
<p>Thirdly, well. It required much less talking and without fail worked far better than the other two. Geralt was still being supported by Duny's arms which made the betrayal all the more easier. He leaned in and gently placed his lips over Duny's.</p>
<p>He counted to three, it usually took about that long for Duny to realize where he was headed. The kiss went from tentative to sure halfway between two and three. Duny steadied him on his feet and moved a hand gently to his neck, the rings felt so cold on his skin they felt like they would burn him. He undoubtedly deserved it. </p>
<p>Geralt placed a hand over Duny's other hand, still on his waist, and pulled him gently to his room. The room was terribly cold without the fire but neither of them paid it much mind, they had each other in that moment. Geralt wanted to cry but couldn't so he kissed him again. And again. And again. Over and over until their bodies could take no more and Duny fell into a deep, sated sleep. </p>
<p>Geralt sat up in bed, the room was dark but he could still see well enough to stand and make his was over to the table that held a quill and a few sheets of parchment. The note he left was short, undoubtedly too cold but it was as follows;</p>
<p>
  <em>Stedwem is onto you. I've got to go. Be happy.</em>
</p>
<p>He put the quill down and stood. He lit a small fire to keep Duny warm through the night. Duny stirred, less than half awake "Geralt?" He asked, beyond fuzzily.</p>
<p>Geralt walked over to him and pulled the blanket over him. He kissed him on his brow, several moments longer than necessary. "I'll be back in the morning." He lied.</p>
<p>Duny reached for his hand and kissed it sleepily then promptly fell back asleep. Geralt's heart shattered but he put his armor and swords back on, this time he took ten minutes rather than five, watching Duny the whole while.</p>
<p>He walked towards the door and gave one last look over his shoulder and said a quiet "Farewell Duny."</p>
<p>He left.</p>
<p>He made it all the way to the castle stables until he heard a voice call out his name. "Geralt!" He swore and turned around. </p>
<p>A very pregnant Pavetta was waddling after him. </p>
<p>"You shouldn't be out this late princess." He said amiably to her. </p>
<p>"Nor should you witcher." She looked at his state of dress then noted that he had all his possessions with him. "You're leaving." She said coldly, uncaringly, her body betrayed her though as she placed a protective hand over her large belly. He knew she wasn't trying to protect the child but herself. He winced.</p>
<p>He placed his saddle on Roach and begun to fasten the ties. "Yes." </p>
<p>"And you'll not be back." It wasn't a question.</p>
<p>"Yes." </p>
<p>"You're leaving us." She wasn't just talking about her and Duny. </p>
<p>He glanced warily at her stomach. "Yes." He said again. </p>
<p>Angry tears welled in her eyes, most royals would have proclaimed that he was theirs by right. That they were owed his services. Not her. She didn't even try to wipe her tears away, instead wearing them like a badge of honor. "If that is your wish then so be it, go back to your cold lonely life witcher, I hope it brings you peace." She turned away from him and her small shoulders shook. </p>
<p>"I will." He strapped his swords to Roach and she gave an admonishing neigh as if to say fix that mess you've made you fool. He didn't. He didn't want to, didn't know how. </p>
<p>He placed his foot in the stirrup and swung his other leg over Roach's back. "Farewell princess."</p>
<p>"Farewell witcher." She sniffed then began he slow March back to the castle. He watched her, made sure she entered the doors, then said "Come on Roach, it's time we go on our way." </p>
<p>He was past Cintra's borders before dawn arrived</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos, they mean so much to me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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